Blue reviews "The Burger" (Ka-pow)

When I was at Britmums a few weeks ago, one of the bits and pieces I picked up was The Burger, published by Love Food, an imprint of Parragon books. It's set out comic book style, billed as "An Action Packed Tasty Adventure" and I picked it up with the intention of cooking with Blue. Blue loves burgers, and while I (luckily) have no problem at all getting him to read, I thought the book's style would particularly appeal to a 9 year old boy.

So here we are, on a rainy afternoon in the school holidays, Pink off giggling with 2 friends at a sleepover, and Blue and I cooked burgers. Actually, Blue did most of the preparing and making the burgers, and the only thing I really did was putting them on a hot griddle and actually cooking them (I had visions of griddled boy which prevented me from giving him free reign with the cooker). And mighty fine burgers they were too - but let me say no more, and hand over to Blue, who was the chef today.

"I like the whole set out of the book and it's very encouraging for children to read 'cos it's like a comic book.

I chose to make the blue cheese stuffed burgers because they sounded appealing to me because I like blue cheese - A LOT.

They were easy to make although it was a bit tricky to squidge the meat up over the cheese,

They were blimmin' brilliant and the best burgers I've ever had."

So there you have it - praise indeed from the child who talks longingly of the one time we ate at Burger King. The burgers were easy to make and tasted delicious.

I was a bit doubtful at the idea of simply stuffing seasoned mince with some blue cheese, but my lovely butcher's mince did Blue proud, and they tasted really good The only disappointing element was the buns, which Blue chose in an unsupervised trip to the local Co-Op. The book has its own burger bun recipe, and while it would have been a step too far today, we will definitely try making our own next time.

Blue Cheese Stuffed Burgers

Makes 4 

550g minced beef - the best quality you can justify 
freshly ground salt & pepper
70g blue cheese, cut into 4 chunks
oil
4 burger buns
lettuce leaves
tomato slices
red onion slices 

Get your toppings ready first - so if you haven't already done so, slice your tomatoes and red onion up (slice the onions as thinly as possible). 

Put the mince in a bowl with some freshly ground salt and pepper, and gently mix it all together.

Divide the mixture into 4, roll into balls, then use your finger to make a hole in each ball, and stuff the cheese inside. Squidge the mince back over the top of the cheese to seal in, then flatten the meat into burger patties.

Heat a ridged griddle pan over a medium to high heat, wipe over with a little oil, and cook the burgers for 4-5 minutes on each side until brown and cooked through.  

Put the burgers into the buns, add the lettuce, tomato and onions, and perhaps some mayo or ketchup, and eat immediately. 

Pasta bake for days that don't quite go your way

There are some days when I almost feel like life is under control, that I know what I'm doing, that I'm parenting brilliantly, everything is running smoothly.

When I say some days, I mean, the occasional day.

Like may be once a year.

More often, I don't feel like that at all. And some days it's worse.

Days when I have to get a trombone, a bicycle and a dog up to school as well as the kids (on foot).

Days when I have no idea how I'm going to fit work in, and end up burning the midnight oil.

Days when I realise that they haven't forgotten, and not one but both children want to enter a Fairtrade cake in the Fairtrade cake competition the following day (and you know my views on such things, having vented here before).

They are BANANAS. OK?.

No, it's a fair trade logo & some bananas not a rampant blue & green Pacman

Days when I realise that the maths homework due the following day isn't a series of 'mental maths' tasks on the computer, but a full on 'investigation' of the type school helpfully expect parents to be on hand for the execution thereof: draw a grid 5 by 5 squares big, and then using 13 coins place them so that there is an odd number in each row, column and the main diagonals. Just try it OK.






Days when I have too much stuff to use up in the fridge.


Last Tuesday was one of those days.







Fortunately, there was a bag of pasta, and the things that needed using up were 2 courgettes &, a head of spring greens from last week's veg box, 4 mini chorizo sausages and half a tub of ricotta cheese. I put the pasta on, almost on auto-pilot, and as icing flew, and coins were placed and re-placed on the grid with accompanying sound effects (I'll leave you to imagine), I  engineered tea.

Having put the pasta on to boil, I fried off the chorizo, till the fat was running, then added the diced courgettes to the pan. Once the courgettes were a bit soft, I chucked in a can of plum tomatoes and a good dollop of sundried tomato pesto. 

Once it had all cooked down a bit, I stirred in the ricotta, stirred in the pasta, into a baking dish grated cheese on top and in the oven for some time. Probably about 20 minutes. And steamed the greens.

Oh did I mention, days when you can't get the photos to rotate and upload properly?

We eat something similar at least once a week. The chorizo could be leftover bacon, or cold meat - or no meat, in which case  I might use garlic and smoked paprika and an onion. The courgettes could be red peppers. The sundried tomato pesto could be tomato puree, ordinary pesto, harissa paste - frankly what ever is in the fridge without mold on it.

There's no recipe, and occasionally it's literally just cooked pasta and a tin of tomatoes cooked down with some garlic stirred through the pasta. 

I commend it to you!

Flapjack - a serious Health & Safety issue

The world is a crazy place, my friends.

A couple of days ago, a child fell off his friend's bike on the way to school in the village where we live. He didn't borrow the friend''s helmet, only the bike, and came a cropper, riding up a particularly enticing verge that borders the pavement just before school. It was fairly harrowing, but a quick trip to A&E and the child was thankfully fine. What was NOT fine, in my book was the rumour was that school was going to ban bikes. Excuse me? What about all the other children who cycle sensibly, wear their helmets, and do not muck about? And these are year 6s we're talking about. School has already decreed that children cannot bring their bikes to school unaccompanied unless they have been on the cycle proficiency course run by school. Which happens after half term in the summer for the year 6s. Even if they do muck about, well, can't the children take some responsibility for their own actions? If we don't let children have some freedom, or put them in situations where they can get into trouble at a very low level, how will they cope with more freedom and far trickier or more dangerous situations if they haven't learned how to take decisions and be responsible for them as they grow up? It won't work, it really won't. We are just storing a whole heap of trouble up for ourselves if we carry on like this.

I know that it's all part of this appalling litigation culture that we live in, but please don't get me started on that, or we'll be here all night. And it all boils down to the same thing - that whole heap of trouble that's on its way (as if things weren't bad enough already).

At present, the rumour seems to have died down, but it really wouldn't surprise me. Scooters are already banned. It has been known for school to close in snowy conditions on the basis that the pavements on the hill up to school were too slippy. Er, surely I, as an adult, and the walker of said pavements, can make that decision (and believe me, they are unlikely to be too slippy for me to get my kids to school....

It's the same with things like conkers, Bulldog and all the other things that have apparently been banned from the playground in the glorious name of 'health & safety'.  Our school is not alone.

Do you want another crazy example?

Google flapjack. Go on.

Scroll down and the 4th item is not a recipe but a news story. "School bans dangerous triangular flapjack". Seriously.

Apparently in March this year, a school decreed that triangular flapjack could no longer be served after an incident in which a pupil threw a piece which hit another pupil. Perhaps they were playing flapjack frisbee? Conducting a groundbreaking experiment into projectiles? I have no idea. I particular like the quote from the Guardian's report of the story:

"A spokesman for Castle View school said: "I can confirm that the texture and shape of the flapjacks were reviewed following an isolated accident last week."

An isolated incident of flapjack aggression. Good grief. Apparently, flapjack at the school is now only to be square or rectangular. Can someone enlighten me as to why this is less dangerous than a triangular flapjack? Perhaps triangular flapjack can reach a higher velocity than a square or rectangular piece. 

I have given up trying to understand these things. Perhaps I am out of touch with reality?

On the subject of flapjack though, I have been carrying out my own review, although this is not an isolated incident, and no one has been throwing anything in my kitchen. Well may be the odd plate, but that's another story.

 That recipe that I blogged a few weeks' ago, the one I thought didn't need any improving? 

I lied.

Use 300g of oats and add in 50g dessicated coconut.

And the chocolate drizzle? After extensive testing, I'd say it was pretty compulsory.

How now, Laughing Cow? a Review

Don't things always seem so much more glamorous in French? 

I was walking up to school the other day behind someone sporting a shopping bag - one of those sturdy, resuable supermarket ones -  with the motif "L'instant fraicheur" inscribed on it. So much better than "the fresh instant". Or "the instant of freshness". My French isn't bad, and in the past, it's been pretty good, and so I still sometimes decide to think in French, or do some idle translation in my head when the English isn't so appealing (I know, I know, the hours just fly by...).

So here's a thing. Whenever someone says The Laughing Cow to me, I hear "La Vache Qui Rit" - which, if you couldn't guess, is the French name for it. Those cheese triangles were present in the fridge of all the French families I have ever stayed with, and last year on our camper van trip to Normandy, in one of those awesome French hypermarkets, we found a pack of La Vache Qui Rit 'Apero-cubes' - individually wrapped 'aperitif' sized cubes of La Vache, with intriguing flavours - paprika, olive, blue cheese...

Frankly, being the huge francophile that I am, if it's good enough for the French...

I must admit that despite all this, I don't buy it (unless it's packaged in lurid yet strangely irresistible aperitif cube type things), but I was approached recently to see if I would like to review a new flavour of The Laughing Cow cheese triangles. La vache qui rit? Mais oui, bien sur...

Doesn't necessarily sit well with the 'cook it from scratch processed food be damned' image I like to portray. But don't judge me too harshly. You see, the other thing that enticed me was the new flavour - emmenthal.

I love a bit of emmenthal.

I was sold.

Sure enough, carefully packaged in a polystyrene box with its own cool pack, not one but 4 packs of La Vache turned up - 2 of emmenthal and 2 of blue cheese flavour.

We tested them extensively - mostly Blue who has a passion for blue cheese, and ate most of it in his sarnies.

Disappointingly, and as may be you'd guessed, though, they don't really taste of either emmenthal or blue cheese (respectively) although the blue cheese one does have a definite and recognisable tang. Pink wasn't keen on either flavour. Blue was positive, although this waned over time, and the Husband and I, well, if I'm honest, it's just not really our thing. They're not particularly unpleasant or anything, I'd rather just eat proper cheese. The real thing. Le vrai...

On the other hand, if you like Laughing Cow generally, you will probably like these. In their favour, they are only 25 calories a triangle, but don't really taste 'diet' so if you're on something like the 5:2 diet, which I am (currently rather half-heartedly) following, they could be a good thing.You know, spread on a tasty Ryvita or something...

So there you have it. Even as La Vache Qui Rit, I can't give them a rave review. But may be you will? And I'm nothing if not open minded (well, sometimes) so if I've judged them too harshly, do try and persuade me otherwise...

A Fish Pie so yummy, Pink would eat it again - and low fat too...

So you might be forgiven for thinking that the whole diet thing has gone out of the window with all the cake that's been on here recently, but no, I have been doing my 'fast' days and I'm planning to write some more about that later on this week. I've also been trying to cut down the fat and stuff in some of our other meals.

Good Friday was a classic example. Something in my psyche says that  we should eat fish on a Friday. I'm not quite sure where this comes from as I was brought up C of E and the whole fish on Friday thing seems to be a more RC tradition, but whatever, fish on a Friday is always there in the back of my mind. Not that it happens much - I'm not a confident fish cook and it always tends to be the same 2 or 3 things that I cook. But if there was any day when I would cook fish, it would be Good Friday.

Fish pie is one of those 2 or 3 fish things that I cook. It's something I can't really remember learning how to make, although I have a vague recollection of a couple of phone calls to mum wondering about how much fish to buy. I always use the same method too - poaching haddock, undyed smoked haddock and salmon in some milk with bay leaves, peppercorns and a couple of cloves; making a white sauce using the infused milk, combining the two, and finally topping with mash. It's one of those things that I've never actually used a recipe for, and often end up making too much fish mixture, or not enough mash.

A few years ago, Good Food ran a series where they did 'ultimate makeovers' of classic recipes, with the aim of reducing the fat content and generally making the dishes healthier without compromising on taste, and in April 2010, fish pie got the treatment. Actually, I think they are still doing it, but it's called 'Make it Healthier' now. I think I prefer 'The Ultimate Makeover' as a concept, but who am I? Anyway, I digress. In my new low fat mindset, I decided to give it a go. A new recipe also meant I could truthfully tell Pink that it was a new way of cooking it and it would taste different, which means she has to try it and it would hopefully defer the wailing and the grimaces that currently accompanies most fish that's put in front of her.

The big differences to my usual method, as far as I could tell, were using cornflour to thicken the sauce rather than making a roux, using shell on cooked prawns to flavour the milk that you poach the fish in (and then make the sauce from), and most controversially as far as I was concerned using 125g of low fat soft cheese with garlic and herbs for extra flavour and creaminess. A final difference was using whole (skin on) new potatoes, boiled, then roughly crushed with a bit of rapeseed oil rather than mashed.

Well, my butcher (who I order fish through) could only get me a massive kilo bag of prawns, so I decided to leave them out, but otherwise, I pretty much followed the recipe and it was a revelation. I said the cream cheese was controversial, and I was worried that it would make it all a bit over poweringly garlicky, and claggy, but as promised, it was a lovely creamy sauce. The potato topping was particularly good too - I may well adopt this approach for other potato topped pies in future. In terms of calorie counting etc, a portion of this baby is supposedly 416 calories as opposed to a more traditionally made fish pie which would rock in at 676 calories, with only 15g of fat (4g saturated) as opposed to a whopping 38g of fat (19g saturated). And if you need any more convincing, I leave you with the words of my (allegedly) fish-loathing Pink, who had sulked round the house all afternoon once she knew it was on the cards for the evening meal:

"Mummy, that was really yummy. I will eat fish pie again if you make it that way".

I rest my case.

Rose cupcakes for Rainbows

Don't for a minute think that I think you need another cupcake/fairycake recipe. Oh no. But after all the hype about cupcakes there's been over the last few years, all the flavours and frostings, glitter and sparkle, it's worth remembering that when the chips are down and you need to produce something sweet for whatever reason it might be, it takes less than 10 minutes to get a bog standard set of 12 cupcakes into the oven, plus another 10-15 minutes cooking (when you could do something else) plus icing. And when I say icing, I'm not talking beautifully primped and prettily piped, scattered with frosted rose petals or whatever else that  might take your fancy, I'm talking about butter and icing sugar, and may be a bit of food colouring if you have something appropriate to hand.

Today is Pink's last day at Rainbows. She's not 7 till May but they have asked her if she'd like to move up to Brownies after the Easter break and she was there like a shot.


And then she was sad. 

"I don't want to leave Rainbows" she wailed.

"I'll miss Bluebell*" she mourned

and then she turned her tear stained face to me, sobbed a bit more, and asked
"Can I take some cakes to my last one?"

Not that I am suggesting the waterworks and hystrionics were all aimed at getting me to make cakes, but she can be a minx sometimes. Not that she always gets her way - I'm as strict as they come when it's thing like how much TV or what they can watch. She could bleed out of her eyeballs and I still wouldn't let her watch whatever it was I'd decreed is unsuitable, but cake, of course, is an entirely different matter. Even so, I was up against it. I don't do anything particularly high powered with my time, but I work and I am busy.  Rainbows is at 4.45 so there wasn't even time for a jolly mother/daughter cake making session after school. Making cupcakes just wasn't on my list of priorities for today but I'd just have felt really, really bad...




I'd like to say that once the cakes were cooled, I set about preparing 3 different bowls of coloured icing and lovingly iced each cake in Rainbow colours. But I didn't. I set the Kenwood to full speed, softened the butter and then on a slower speed (believe me, I have added icing sugar without thinking at top speed. You should do it some time - but only once!) beat in the sifted icing sugar and some fairly lurid peachy pink buttercream icing. And some Hello Kitty sugar coated chocolate eggs that caught my eye as I passed through the Co-Op at speed - it is nearly Easter after all.

 
Makes 12 rose flavoured cupcakes

115g soft Stork margerine (or softened butter - I didn't have time to wait for softening and I don't have a microwave)
115g caster sugar
2 large eggs, lightly beaten
1 tbsp milk
1/2 tsp vanilla extract
1/2 tsp Essence of Rose Water (mine is from the English Provender Company)
175g self raising flour

Line a 12 hole cake tray & pre-heat your oven to 200C.

Beat together the sugar and marge till fluffy, then add the egg in bit by bit, beating well after each addition. Beat in the milk and flavourings, then fold in the flour. Divide the mixture between the cake cases - I start off with half a dessert spoon per case then top up with what's left.

Bake for 10-15 minutes till golden. If you do manage to turn them half way, so much the better but don't die in a ditch over it.

Leave the cakes to cool, then ice: beat 85g softened butter (I got mine out of the fridge when I made the cakes so it was soft by the time I got to this stage) till it's really soft then slowly add in 175g icing sugar (sifted if time permits). Add in a few drops of lurid pink icing, and a splash of milk if you think it needs softening up for spreading purposes - then spread over the cakes and top with whatever additional sugar products you might have to hand.



And time wise - well if you're interested, this is how it worked: got home from school and dog walking and made the cupcakes - literally ingredients to batter in case: 8 minutes. Into the oven while I hung the washing out (rock and roll) and logged on. Cakes out of the oven, and butter for the icing out of the fridge (good job I remembered). Finished work and spent 5 minutes making the icing before heading off the pick the kids up from school. 10 minutes back home to ice the cakes. There - see - it doesn't take much to be a Domestic Goddess...

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* for the as yet uninitiated, the childfree or parents of boys, Bluebell is the official name for the Rainbow leader. Nice.

The great big enormous ... PARSNIP!

This could be a post about the hunger gap - that time of the year where we've all but run out of stored food and nothing's growing (I'm talking veg here, not baked beans) yet, or about using up leftovers. It could also be a Samantha Barnes Google Recipe Challenge, and all because of a parsnip.

Despite the hunger gap, the atrociously cold weather and all that, we still have parsnips in the garden. Whether they are actually growing any more is debateable, but when they come out this size, does it really matter?

Anyway, size isn't everything, it's what you do with it. Thanks to the fact that we had people for dinner on Saturday night, I had a fridge full of leftovers looking at me when I opened it up  this evening, Left over bad stuff, like cheese and cream. I may be on a mission to reduce the circumference of my thighs and ensure that the only muffin tops around here are of the double chocolate variety, but I absolutely cannot see food going to waste, so the challenge was on. What to do with the enormous parsnip - and the leftovers?

Pink's not a fan, so parsnips usually get turned into some sort of soup for the Husband and I, or roasted as a side dish, ideal for her to pick out and be sniffy about (she'd refuse the soup point blank). This evening, though, she was out at a friend's so Blue and I got stuck in to some proper parsnip action.

A quick Google based on what I had in the fridge turned up 2 possibles - both gratins - one from Abel & Cole and one from a website called Epicurious - so we combined the two, in doing so using up the left over cream and Cashel Blue cheese from Saturday night, and raiding the garden for the only other things that are growing with any enthusiasm at the moment - sage and rosemary. 

I'm pleased to report that Blue got properly stuck in to the whole thing. Much as he'd hate to admit it, he's a bit lost when his little sister isn't around for hi-jinking or fighting, depending on the mood they are both in (actually, if we're being strictly honest, usually it depends on the mood Pink is in) and so it was good to get him involved while she was off giggling with her friend.

Mezzaluna baby!

 

The result was a delicious creamy (of course) warming dish, full of flavour - great food for a chilly winter Spring evening.

Parsnip & Bacon Gratin with leeks, hazelnuts & blue cheese

Serves 3-4 depending on appetite

60g hazelnuts
700g (peeled weight) parsnips, thinly sliced lengthways
200g (ditto) carrots, also thinly sliced
1 large leek, thinly sliced and washed
200g pancetta/bacon cut into pieces
250ml or so double cream & creme fraiche, thinned with a little milk if necessary
1 good tsp dijon mustard
2-3 sprigs of rosemary, needles only & a handful of sage leaves, finely chopped
80g or so* blue cheese (we had Cashel blue in the fridge), grated
salt & pepper

Pre-heat your oven to 200C

Put the parsnips and carrot into a large pan of salted water. Bring to the boil and cook for 3-4 minutes, then drain and leave to steam dry-ish.

While the veg is cooking, lightly toast the hazelnuts in a small frying pan, then when cool enough to handle roughly chip them and set aside.

Fry the bacon/pancetta till mostly cooked; drain off most of the fat (if a lot has been produced) then add the leek and cook for a few more minutes till the leek is softened.

Whisk together the cream, creme fraiche, mustard and milk if you need it, and then add in the herbs and salt and pepper.

To assemble, first put a layer of parsnip and carrot into your gratin dish, drizzle over about a third of the cream mixture and sprinkle with half the hazelnuts. Spread the leeks and bacon over this, then layer on the rest of the parsnips. Pour over the rest of the cream then sprnkle over the rest of the hazelnuts and the grated cheese.

Bake for 30 minutes of so till the parsnips are cooked, the sauce is bubbling and there's a delicious crunchy topping on your gratin.

If I'd had any salad in the fridge, I think it would have been good with it - something like watercress - but as it was we didn't, so we just ate it as it was. Delicious**.

I'm linking up to this month's Herbs on Saturday hosted by London Busy Body this month for Karen at Lavender & Lovage

 I'm also linking up the March Simple and in Season hosted by Louisa at Chez Foti

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* The chunk started off at 80g but Blue is very fond of blue cheese and I didn't keep an eye on how much was being grated and how much was being gobbled...

** I was quite surprised by how much Blue enjoyed this, regardless of the amount of effort he put into making it - those who read this regularly will know that I'm usually gnashing my teeth about how he doesn't like anything 'crunchy' like this gratin topping or the top of a cottage pie, and my efforts to get him to eat less sophisticated things with a cheese sauce - macaroni/cauliflower cheese have met so far with dismal failure. May be his tastes are changing - or may be it was the cream and blue cheese combo. Watch this space.

Minimalist Parenting and thoughts on feeding children

There appears to be yet another new parenting book on the block - Minimalist Parenting.

How do I know this? Well, it's half term, and the Husband is working away, so of course I have decamped to my parents and handed over all responsibility for pretty much everything (i.e. the children, cooking etc) to my parents while I regress to behaving somewhere akin to how I did during my A levels - so I am working, slopping around reading books (I have discovered a new author - Sophie Hannah. The Room Swept White is very gripping) and raiding the biscuit tins. (I should clarfiy that I am not, you'll be relieved to know, smoking crafty fags out of the window or sneaking off to nightclubs to meet boys when I should have been revising).

As a result, I actually got to read a newspaper this morning. On a week day. The paper from today. And not snatched articles whilst scrumpling up the news print to lay the fire. Not my paper of choice, I have to say, but not the Daily Mail, so I have to be grateful for that. And when I say 'read the paper', what I actually mean is the frivolous bits. But enough of my inadequacies. There it is, "How to be a minimalist parent". We should all be scheduling time off between after school activities; editing our calendars and have to do lists and (wait for it) - NOT to do lists; spending 10-15 minutes a few days a week decluttering a small area of our homes (the purpose behind this is most definitely not explained in the article - I am as confused as the next person).

I should say here that I lurch through parenting from one disaster to the next. I really do feel like I am close to collapse most of the time in terms of the decisions that have to be made, how to handle different situations. It's fashionable, if not a little passive aggressive to say it, I know, but I genuinely, truly mean it. I didn't have the confidence to pick up a book that would tell me how to parent and follow it, but nor did I have the confidence to believe that what I was doing was the right thing. I did the stereotypical professional woman thing and went into freefall after Blue was born, ended up sobbing on the health visitor, diagnosed with mild PND, and came out of the other side to create motherhood - my way.

As most people do, I guess we tread the middle road. We do not run to a tiger mother-esque calendar of improving activities and play dates, but the kids do a couple of extra things each after school - Cubs, football for Blue, Ballet and Rainbows for Pink. I work. I shout (although I try not to). I worry about not spending enough time with the kids doing what they want to do and then take them along with me to do what I need to do anyway. Out of school, we do the gardening, we walk the dog, we throw stones in the sea. We might occasionally go to a museum. We do being bored and amusing ourselves. I am not for a moment saying that the way we do things is any better than how other people do things (unless they are abusing their children) but it's how we do it.
 
I'm not going to go into the ins and outs of all these different parenting theories and practices - obviously as I've hardly read any, and practised none, I have no grounds to do so. But what I did think was interesting was that this minimalist parenting theory stretches to the food you put in front of your children.  Apparently, the authors (a couple of American women, Christine Koh and Asha Dornfest) are "...not prepared to act as short-order chefs. Everyone eats the same thing or starves - well not quite...." One of the other 'tips for going minimalist' is to "come up with two or three quick, healthy dinners you can prepare using basic ingredients"

I am really pleased that someone has written this down. My own philosophy for feeding children is fairly similar, but it wasn't always so, and I still feel the irritation, nay the disappointment and upset if they reject one of my lovingly prepared dishes. If they are feeling sensitive, I'll get "Well, it's not my favourite thing, mummy", but more often than not, their displeasure is met with gagging and "Please do not EVER make that again". Take the broad bean and bacon risotto, for example. Arguably, by pretty much always cooking from scratch every day, I am never going to make a minimalist parent - but then I like eating well-cooked, good food, and I am not going to cut off my nose to spite my face. Part of what makes us what we are is the food we eat and the importance the Husband and I attach to eating honest food is part of our family make up and I - you've guessed it - I'm not going to give that up to become a minimalist parent. However, I would agree with the suggestion that, once your kids are out of the baby stages, you should have two or three quick healthy dinners you can bang out with little stress when time is tight (most of mine involve pasta), or you just can't be bothered. the idea is that food is sometimes just fuel - it may be good quality fuel, but children need to learn that they are not always going to be able to eat what they choose.

This got me thinking about my approach to feeding the children, and, fo what it's worth, I thought I would add to that a number of other principles that have stood me in good stead feeding children:

- if you are cooking something new and are unsure how it is going to be received, make sure that there is something as part of the meal that you know your children will eat e.g. a baked potato

- persist with the 'try one mouthful' rule

- fruit is a good pudding, and if there is a treat to be had too, insist on fruit first

- when your children are going through fussy phases (and they will be phases, I promise, although some take longer to get out of than others), try and put some distance between the food you have prepared and what they are eating - if necessary freeze what you have made for another day, and serve them something that you made and froze previously

- if they don't eat much at one meal, try really really hard not to allow them to snack before the next meal. You may have a tedious sugar low blighted morning or afternoon, but you are more likely to get them back on track at the next meal if you do.

- tell yourself that if all they want to eat is a handful of cheerios and a couple of slices of cucumber, then that probably really is all they want. You might have to give yourself a stern talking to about this, but persist with yourself. Eventually they will surprise you and eat a proper meal - my mum had a friend who had I think 6 children. The youngest would only eat bananas and peanut butter sandwiches so that was all she would give him. One day as the rest of the family tucked into something delicious, and he sat looking at his bananas and peanut butter sarnies, he said "Why can't I have that?". Problem solved.

- canned tomatoes are your friend. So is garlic. And pasta.

- try where possible to cook from scratch but remember that no one ever died from eating a fish finger or the odd oven chip.

- insisting that they clear their plates is probably not helpful - I can't help it, I am an inveterate plate clearer, but I am learning that it is probably not helpful. Sometimes
I even manage to let them not finish all their main course and have pudding. I doubt it's going to cause too many problems in the long run

- eating at the table is good - and if you can eat with the children - or sit down with them and have a cup of tea while they are eating - so much the better: it creates a natural environment for confidences to come spilling out.

- letting them help you - chopping, grating, mixing - does actually encourage them to eat it, especially if it's a new thing. I was sceptical, but I think it does work.

So make of those what you will. If you have any other tips, please do share - I am always open to suggestions!

Rollercoaster parenting and dragon eggs

Parenting. How is it for you? A rollercoaster? That's pretty much how it is for me, and I've only survived 9 years of it. Apart from the admittedly rather extreme parts of my own parenting experience, the thing that really gets me is how one thing leads to another and before you know it, you've been talked into some completely bonkers project or other, feeling vaguely hysterical to boot.

now imagine it large scale, across the Humber

A throwaway comment the other week about how I'd made some bunting for my 40th birthday celebrations, and the next thing I know, I'm helping 1st Overton Rainbows with their contribution to the Helen Skelton/Blue Peter longest string of bunting ever Red Nose Day project. Two 2 metre bunting triangles, no less, to join a host of other flags adorning the Humber Bridge. Felt, scissors, fabric pens, orange squash, malted milk bisc.. oh sorry, those last two were 'tuck', not anything to do with the bunting. Crazy.





This from a woman who remains unshakeable in her belief that glitter was invented by a deeply mysogonist forbear of James Dyson who never spent any time with a toddler and a pot of PVA glue, and 'craft' is what Playgroup was for...

I am not a 'crafty' mummy. I am a reading stories mummy. A running around in a field mummy. A baking cakes mummy (of course). Try as I might (and I really do), I am not good at the whole craft thing. But one thing leads to another...

Blue & Pink are going to a Harry Potter party on Saturday. It promises to be a wonderfully orchestrated affair  - hand crafted 'invitations to join Hogwarts'. There is talk of the Petrificus Totalis game, and the potions lesson. I am torn between total admiration and a kind of snarling resentment - a new bar has been set. I for one am not in the market for competitive birthday parties - although I do own up to once spending 15 hours crafting a Thomas and the Troublesome Trucks birthday cake. 15 hours. In my defence, my son was in the grip of a potentially life threatening illness at the time, but even so - faced with this kind of inventiveness, I must stamp down a little part of me that has judged me on my birthday party enthusiasm and found me lacking...

Blue owns some 'robes' - and Pink has been hankering. The problem is that I MADE Blue's robes for a book day affair - nothing fancy, but Pink was after some herself, and things have moved on and I just haven't had time. So what is she to wear, my diminutive, headstrong, firecracker of a daughter? Well, my friends, I have convinced her to go as Hagrid. I have a curly black fright wig and enough black & brown facepaint to provide her a beard. She can wear some brown trousers and a shirt I modified for Blue to wear as a Celt (it works, I promise). My duffle coat with the sleeves rolled up, and her own pink umberella. 

"And perhaps we could make a dragon egg, Mummy? Hagrid always has a dragon egg"

My heart sinks. But then, one thing leads to another. Does this happen to other people or is it just me? I feel that I owe it to her to make the best of what is essentially a cobbled together affair. Am I really too busy to deny my  daughter? What kind of mother would that make me? A dragon egg? Let me think. Then the lightbulb moment!  A cake was on the cards anyway. There's no need for papier mache and messy balloon coating (which I imagine might be involved in such an endeavour - I can see it now bound to fail) - oh no! - I can blow the eggs. We can paint them! And before I know it, I have uttered those words out loud, so there is no turning back.

Why, why why? I am practically PHOBIC about blown eggs: it's a long story involving Christmas tree decorations and  the words "scarred for life". I could go into it now, but I won't - suffice to say that if my mum (remember, I love her, it's just easy to make the odd joke at her expense) could work out how to leave a comment on my blog, she'd probably remind me (and you all) of all the occasions I have sworn never to blow an egg myself for painting/craft purposes, less so even countenance the idea that I might inflict blown eggs on my children for whatever reason.

The cake required 4 eggs. I equipped myself with a pin and get started.

Getting the pin in is not as tricky as it first seems. But in my delight, I lose my head and put it down on the worktop. My camera is not working. I reach for my phone. 

Crack.

I try again. More luck next time, I get a hole in both ends - a pin hole to blow through, and an ever so slightly larger hole for the egg to slip out of. 

Or not

Can you see the pitiful blob of albumen? It is there. Do you know how much puffing and blowing that took?

In the end, I took a skewer to the 'exit hole', and - success:

OK, so may be I was hoping for a smaller hole

egg!

So I washed out the eggs and made a cake. And mighty good cake it was too.

Now all we need to do is paint the eggs.

My afternoon - with apologies to Edward Lear #sendgin

There once was a mother called Sally,
Whose children would drive her doolally.
She stifled her screams
as she cooked them baked beans,
and then urged them to bed, not to dally.

Oven Baked Broad Bean & Bacon Risotto - and a good dose of humility

Excuse me for a moment while I state the obvious, but isn't feeding children just sometimes the most frustrating thing?

Just when you think you've got it sussed, that you're congratulating yourself that they've obviously grown out of all that toddler faddishness and realised you're not trying to poison them, they chuck in a curve ball. 

Just when you're feeling slightly pleased with your "Must-taste-without-retching-noises" rule and your "Eat-as-many-mouthfuls-as-your-age-if-you-want-pudding" rule, and the diverse range of foods that your kids will actually eat, and just, dare I say it, when you might be sounding a teeny bit smug about it all (strike me down, for I know I am that woman), they bring you straight back down to the bottom line and refuse something that is completely inoffensive, nay something that others would consider a bit of a treat.

So there we have it - oven baked bacon and broad bean risotto. Creamy, comforting on a cold evening. It's got bacon in it, for goodness sake. To be fair, I suppose Blue isn't a fan of rice , and generally, Pink has been fairly ambivalent about broad beans recently despite our attempts to jolly her out of it (mainly because we had a good crop of them in the garden and we are lucky enough to have some left in the freezer that need eating). But really? What's not to like? Everything, apparently.

"Mummy, let me tell you that broad beans and bacon do NOT go together" Er excuse me? Are you my child? I believe you may have been swapped at birth. (I didn't actually say that to him).

Ho hum.

Onwards and upwards.

The Husband and I loved it though, so for that reason alone, I'm going to share it with you all - and what could be easier. I know that really, for risotto, there should be loads of stirring love going on, and the purists will strike me down, but when the chips (or perhaps that should be the rice) are down, if there's an easy option, I'd like to know about it, and this certainly ticks that box.

Oven baked Bacon and Broad Bean risotto

1 tbsp olive oil & a knob of butter (what does a 'knob' of butter mean? I just chopped a smallish corner off my block - probably no more than 10 grams, because I'm trying to lose a little weight, but you could add more if you wanted)
1 onion finely chopped
1 clove of garlic, finely chopped
200g smoked bacon, chopped
200g frozen broad beans (you could also use frozen peas, or fresh of either in season, but they will take less time to cook - remember that. Nothing worse than an overcooked broad bean...)
300g risotto rice
700ml chicken or veg stock
100g or so of grated cheese - parmesan, or whatever you have

Pre-heat the oven to 180C.

Heat the oil and butter in an oven proof dish with a lid, and add the bacon. Cook for a few minutes till the bacon starts to colour, then add the onion and garlic and sweat gently till softened. 

Stir in the rice and keep stirring for a minute or so to coat the rice in the pan juice/oil. 

Tip in the stock, bring to a simmer, put the lid on and pop in the oven. Cook for about 20 minutes, then remove the pan from the oven, stir in the broad beans, put the lid back on and cook for another 5 minutes or so till the beans are cooked (if you are using fresh broad beans, it will need less time. 

Take the dish out of the oven, stir in most of the cheese and leave to stand, with the lid back on, for 5 minutes. Apply salt and pepper as required, then serve with the rest of the cheese to sprinkle on top.

 Stand back and wait for the "oooos" of delight or, alternatively, the retching. If the latter, I share your pain. If the former, feel free to be smug in the comments below.